Angels of Death
by IzMi
Summary: A Brother-Sergeant and his squad readies to board a heretical docking station. On a sidenote, I'm fairly new to this whole thing so any and all criticism is welcomed.


As the boarding pod shook him and his squad violently, Halstrum ran his fingers over the tally marks in his bolter. A set of three on one side, a set of five on the other. Even through his power armour's gauntlets, he could feel the ridges of the marks, and he could remember the story that went with each of them.

The first of his set of five, Brother-Seargent Diogenes, fallen at the hands of one of Nurgle's festering, disgusting children on the planet of Cypra Mundi. The second, Brother Gareth, cleaved in twain by a Carnifex at the Battle of Kanak. Third, Librarian Gormast, taken into the breach of the Warp after a hurried use of his powers. Fourth, Chaplain Klaudas, struck by a torpedo whilst in a Void skirmish with a Chaos Warband. And lastly, Neophyte Lamorak, who failed to resist the siren's call of the Chaos Gods and had to be purged.

In truth, Halstrum was unsure if he was the last of his Chapter. There had been others, although they were separated long ago by the great warp storm that divided the Imperium. The last he saw of the Chapter Master, he had challenged a Bloodthirster to single combat, hoping to buy the men under his command enough time to recover from their wounds. Halstrum feared that while the Chapter Master was far stronger than he, the Bloodthirster was far too vicious for the likes of him. Halstrum figured that, more likely than not, he was in fact the last.

If left by himself, Halstrum had no doubt that he'd have joined the Chapter Master in combat, dying or bringing glory to the remnants of what was left of his Battle-Brothers. But the Chapter Master had other plans. He told Halstrum to leave, for someone must spread the tales of his exploits. Halstrum had never disobeyed an order, and he didn't see fit to start there.

Halstrum had been fortunate enough to run across an ally; a shining beacon in the darkness of the Void. One Custodian Varian had been given the task of gathering the broken shards of various Chapters left by the Indomitus Crusade, and reforging them into a mighty hammer to strike a blow against the forces of darkness who would dare pass on Imperial soil. This included Astartes from all different chapters; Ultramarines, Blood Angels, Imperial Fists, Salamanders, and so many countless others. As broken as their forces were however, they still had their Battle-Brothers to rely on, to confide in. Yet Halstrum had none. Where as this would sadden and break the resolve of most normal men, Halstrum was no normal man; he was an Astartes, one of the Emperor's angels of death, hand picked by his Chapter to deliver swift and overwhelming destruction to the Empire's foes, be they man or otherwise. The loss of his Battle-Brother's only tempered his devotion in the fires of hatred, and reformed it even stronger than before. His mind raced with the thought of excitement at the prospect of letting lose a volley of bolter fire at a wall of traitor Guardsmen, or using his chainsword to cut a Chaos Raptor through. What weapons he used mattered little. For all he cared, the Custodian could have sent him onto the battlefield with only his bare hands and his iron will.

Taking his eyes off of his bolter for the first time in a long while, he gave his squad mates another scan, judging them silently. He had been placed as Brother-Sergeant for the group, despite him being the only Battle-Brother not from a Founding Chapter. A sign of respect, most certainly, but it would take far more than that for him to determine their worth. While he was no veteran, the other members of his squad had most likely barely spent a decade since their promotion to Battle-Brother.

The first of his squad that caught his eye was the Blood Angel. Halstrum had fought briefly with a squad of Blood Angels at the Battle of Baal, their home world. As far he was concerned, they were sturdy and righteous combatants with a penchant for close-quarters combat. The Blood Angel also seemed to be a psyker, given what little Halstrum had discussed with him about. Halstrum had never personally dealt with a psyker outside of his own Chapter, so he was hesitant to trust him.

The second was the Iron Hands, the squad's designated Techmarine. Of course, anyone would be able to tell that just by looking at him, given his enhancements when compared to the rest of the squad. He had a number of servo-arms grafted onto his armour, serving whatever purpose the Iron Hands would give them. His backpack power unit had been painted red, a standard practice among most Techmarines, to show allegiance to the Mechanicus.

The last member of the squad was a Salamander, who was as jovial and friendly as they come. While generally quiet, he certainly was the most straight forward out of the squad, even with Halstrum including himself. He had been assigned as the squad's medic, and took great care to make sure his Battle-Brothers were healthy in body, and where he saw fit, in spirit, given the lack of a devoted Chaplain to watch over them.

In truth, Halstrum's squad was remarkedly small for an Astartes strike force. Typically, they'd run anywhere from two to three times as large, if not larger than that. However, they were not the only squad being deployed; as a whole, there were over a hundred scattered Chapter's Battle-Brothers who had been gathered onto the _Sons of Humanity_ , Custodian Varian's personal Battle-Barge. At least 20 more Strike Squads existed outside of Halstrum's, and each of them given an assignment by the Custodian. Some would land upon the planet to make connection with the Mechanicus forces who had sent out the distress beacon whilst the planet was being invaded by a Chaos Warband. Others, like Halstrum's, were given the honour of acting as a boarding force onto the planet's orbiting dockyard to disable any weaponry that might be located on it, allowing the _Sons of Humanity_ to stay in orbit to provide support to the Astartes on the planet.

Once more, Halstrum ran his fingers over the two sets of tally marks on his bolter, without saying a word to his Battle-Brothers. They seemed to share his lack of words, none of them attempting to spark a conversation while they waited for their boarding torpedo to hit the docking station.

Without meaning to, Halstrom began to speak words that his Chapter had uttered before every mission, his power armour's white paint dancing together with the red light of the boarding pod.

"What is your life?" he whispered to himself.

"My honour is my life," uttered the Blood Angel in response.

Seeing no reason to stop, Halstrum continued, "What is your fate?"

The Salamander looked up to meet his gaze, hidden behind his helmet's photolenses, "My duty is my fate."

Halstrum nodded lightly, his voice rising in volume, "What is your fear?"

The alarm sounded, meaning that within seconds, the pod would make contact with it's target.

"My fear is to fail," the Iron Hands said between gritted teeth.

"What is your reward?" Halstrum gripped onto his seat's handles, preparing for impact.

"My salvation is my reward," his three Battle-Brother's voices echoed in their confined chambers.

"What is your craft?" Halstrum once more raised his voice, this time to a near shout.

"My craft is death," they matched the raise in his voice.

The sound of metal scrapping against metal pounded throughout the pod as it finally pierced the station, its lasers drilling deep inside, all the while the pod rumbling as if it were being fired upon by dozens of Land Raiders before coming to a stop, the red light inside of the pod now flashing.

"What is your pledge?" Halstrum yelled as he raised out of his seat, bolter in hand.

The doors to the pod opened, and before a step was taken, a barrage of las shots rained upon the Astartes, bouncing off their armour like waves upon a rock.

His Battle-Brother's matched the conviction in his voice, each grabbing their weapons and directing them towards the las fire, the sound of their shots bouncing of the walls of the pod endlessly, destroying those who would defy the Imperium of Man.

"My pledge is eternal service." 


End file.
